


I Feel Your Warmth (And it Feels Like Home)

by Ravensmores



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Lack of Communication, Love Confessions, M/M, Top Katsuki Yuuri, come on... communication is key guys, like a little bit of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravensmores/pseuds/Ravensmores
Summary: He knows the phrase. It’s an echo, a memory from a Russian phrase book he’d bought so many years ago when he’d dared to dream that he’d meet his idol. Stupid words he knew he’d never need but still had permanently scored into his mind ever since he’d first traced the phrase one night.I love you.How two dorks finally say "I love you"





	I Feel Your Warmth (And it Feels Like Home)

The first time, they’re in bed.

 

 

It was a night of soft words and softer kisses. After returning home from the Rostelecom Cup barely three hours earlier, Yuuri needed a break from the sharp blur of everything that had happened following Victor leaving the competition and something to distract him from the dark weight sitting in his mind that he’d almost lost everything by barely qualifying.

Victor was only too happy to oblige, letting the drama of the past few days slowly melt away into the comfort of both of them tangled together completely dressed on top of his bed. Eventually they had the sense to kick off pants and socks and wrap themselves together in the sheets away from everything outside of the comfort of these four walls and the warmth of a shared embrace.

As the gleam of the moon creeps higher outside the window, Yuuri feels himself slowly losing track of the hours as they drift past lazy and warm. He really wants to get up to properly shut the blinds, but can’t bring himself to move the dozing man currently resting his face against his heart, or pass up an opportunity to marvel at just how unfairly pretty he was softly illuminated in the dim light. His closed eyes fanned the long silver sweep of his eyelashes against his cheek like strands of spider’s web and the soft pink of his mouth was pulled into the fondest smile as he lazily hummed his responses to Yuuri’s stories.                                                                           

“Apparently Yurio still isn’t much of a hugger.”

“Mmmmhmm.”

“And his standard greeting hasn’t exactly changed from a roundhouse kick to the spine, but I don’t think losing to JJ had put him the best mood anyway.”

“Mmmmmyep.”

“Although you really have to try the piroshkies his Grandpa made, they’re insane. I never really thought you could put most of the ingredients for katsudon in there, but it just kinda works.”

He knows he’s rambling, the exhaustion from the last few days sitting heavy like lead in his bones and dragging his ability to form coherent sentences with it. Having Victor piled on top of him isn’t exactly the most comfortable position they could be in but right now he can’t bring himself to care, just relishing in the closeness that they can have.

They both need it.

While the stress of every hour following Victor’s departure from Moscow had made him feel like he was walking the razor’s edge of madness at times, the exhaustion of it all was equally etched on Victor’s features when they were finally reunited. The redness rubbed into his eyes and the dark circles embedded like craters under them made his heart ache at how hard the past few days had hit him too. They’d barely spent a moment not touching since then, whether it was having the comforting weight of Victor’s hand in his on the cab ride home, the gentle brush of his fingers against his ankle while Yuuri was recounting his experiences to his family, or now, this wonderful, impossible man lying on top of him here just to be with him… because he _wanted_ to.

Yuuri can barely believe that only a few months ago he ran scared from his touch, but now he can hardly stand being apart from those same caresses for too long.

After a few more minutes the conversation slowly starts to fade. Yuuri’s eyes are burning, lids heavy from the strain of trying to keep them open, just to hold on to this perfect moment for a little longer. He thought Victor had already drifted, but in the low light he sees the blurry outline of him nuzzle a little further into Yuuri’s chest, the gentle movement of his lips leaving the warmth of a feather’s kiss through his shirt.

‘ _Myamlublutebya’_

It’s a muffled whisper in the silvery darkness of the room, the words almost lost in the thick sleepy space between them, but Yuuri catches it, feels the shape of the phrase stick in his mind as he absentmindedly runs his fingers from the fine hairs at the nape of Victor’s neck, slowly to the longer strands at the crown of his head.

Yuuri knows them.

Victor’s grasp on English slips when he’s tired and his sleepy Russian is something that Yuuri finds frankly adorable, the rough timbre of the unfamiliar words strangely soothing of an evening, but something about these words he knows, something he heard a long time ago. He thinks about it carefully, sleepily going through his limited Russian vocabulary as he continues his gentle ministrations.

_Ya lyublyu tebya._

Yuuri‘s hand stills. He knows the phrase. It’s an echo, a memory from a Russian phrase book he’d bought so many years ago when he’d dared to dream that he’d meet his idol. Stupid words he knew he’d never need but still had permanently scored into his mind ever since he’d first traced the phrase one night.

_I love you._

He lets it hang in the air for a long moment while he slowly processes the words. Even whispered and obscured by his shirt he knows that’s what he’d said.

Suddenly he feels more awake than ever.

He’d imagined the words coming a thousand times, in a thousand different ways for so long, but never as something that would actually be said. Especially by Victor. Especially _now_ of all times.  

They were words that existed in a dream, a fantasy of two of them where the notion of Victor being in love with him didn’t seem so ridiculous. Even though they’d had their fair share of heated touches and affectionate moments since their first kiss in China, he’d still never imagined that he’d actually hear it said.

He wasn’t blind. He knew that Victor liked being with him, in every sense of the word, but he never thought his affection couldn’t ever grow into something like love. He never thought that Victor could be the first one to say the words, even if he didn’t really mean to. He couldn’t really judge his feelings by a statement he could hardly hear while the other man was barely awake could he? And they were in Russian. Was it meant to be secret? Or did he even mean to say it at all?

In every fantasy he’d let himself have, it was always some sort of big sweeping gesture. Saying “I love you” was meant to be a huge deal, so the first time saying it should be some equally kind of important moment right?

As Yuuri processes the notion in his mind he can’t help thinking how this felt strangely more... intimate. Something uttered drowsy and honest in his native tongue while tangled together in the small hours of the night.

The past few months with Victor he’d thought more about love than any other time in his life, about what that concept really meant to him. Falling in love was always something he’d relegated to _someday._ Some undefined time in the future when he might actually have the chance to find someone crazy enough to actually want him back, something he shouldn’t be thinking about now.

That was until Victor had so loudly and proudly barged into his life.

Before they’d even met Yuuri had known that a childish admiration of his skating had morphed into some sort of silly crush.  Something he knew never went away and had stopped him ever pursuing anyone else as he got older, especially when he got certified by the JSF and the world stage of figure skating was then something he could feasibly have… when he could finally be in Victor’s line of sight.

Then after he’d turned up so unabashedly happy and naked in the family onsen and Yuuri had managed to get over the pounding bass drum of his heart every time they touched, he had thought about what it was he really felt. For so long Victor was nothing but a fantasy, just some ethereal figure that only existed to shine brilliant and beautiful behind the flicker of a television screen and then he was suddenly just there. In front of him. In his house, talking to his family, eating with him, sleeping with him, coaching him.

While he really was just as stunning as he’d seemed from the glossed shine of a poster, getting to know him as a real person was a privilege Yuuri would be forever thankful for getting.

Yes, he was talented and a surprisingly good coach: strict, insightful and he made programmes that showed off every aspect of Yuuri’s capabilities, but he was also so very human. Flighty, arrogant, intense, but also touch-starved, clingy and surprisingly prone to sunburn. He was no longer some perfect ideal of a skater Yuuri had practically worshipped for so long, but actually being around him made him realise how much of a good person he was. How he had come to like such little things about him, from the freckles on his shoulders, to his in-depth knowledge of haircare, to the slightly more syrupy voice he only used when he thought he was alone with Makkachin.

And the big things too, how much he freely shows his affection for Yuuri wherever they were, and how he actually tried to learn how to deal with Yuuri’s attacks after the meltdown before his free skate in Beijing.

How after everything they’d been through in such a short amount of time, the past few days had shown him how much Yuuri ached when they weren’t together.

He looks down at the other man sleeping on his chest, happy and peaceful and completely unaware of the storm he’d caused inside Yuuri’s mind.

‘Victor?’ He whispers against the others man’s face, gently brushing his fingers against his cheek.

Silence. His eyelids don’t even flutter. He’s dead to the world and Yuuri doesn’t have it in himself to wake such a beautiful sight. 

He exhales and shifts slightly, slowly turning Victor in his arms so he can spoon him more comfortably from behind, letting the curve of his mouth rest against the back of the other man’s neck as the exhaustion from the past two days drags him into slumber.

He isn’t exactly sure if Victor meant to say the words, or even if he was supposed to hear them but for now all he wants to do is let everything outside of the warmth of a blanket cocoon be drowned out by the weight of the man in his arms.

He knows he’ll have to let him go eventually. He’d already made that promise to himself back in Russia. He can’t keep him from the world, can’t keep him from skating, from being who he needs to, no matter how desperately he wants to cling to the happiness that sparks like embers under his skin every time they’re together. But right now he can forget that and just be happy with what he has at this moment. More than he ever dreamed he could have before.

As he slips into sleep, he gently mouths his resolve into the darkness.

_“I love you too. And next time, I’ll say it back.”_

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

The second time, it’s in Barcelona.

 

The spark between them had heated like a bonfire as they guided each other through the GPF exhibition skate, until every touch they shared had Yuuri burning under his skin, desperate for release. 

It wasn’t just the pent up energy from the hectic blur of emotions, he needed to tell Victor exactly what he felt, make up for coming so close to ending everything just a few days previous and relish in the fact that the happiness he thought was so fleeting was actually something he could hold onto.

He sweeps round to the centre of the rink, supporting Victor from behind as he guides him into the second half of the routine. He hasn’t had time to tell him just how much Victor means to him or how sorry he was for hurting him with his words, so at least for now he can do it with his body.

He turns Victor in his arms _,_ holding him more firmly so he can support him into the next lift. _I’m sorry._

He guides him through the air, marvelling in how bright he shines under the strong lights of the rink. _No I won’t leave you._

He lets the happiness of everything reflect out of his features as he spins and slowly sets him down. _I never want to stop skating with you._

Seeing him later slowly strip out of his sparkling pair skating outfit and into a crisp suit was not doing anything to help the burning under his skin like an itch he couldn’t quite get at, and neither was being separated later to go through the motions of making statements and talking to sponsors.

They’d been at the banquet long enough to be considered polite before three glasses of champagne has Yuuri dragging Victor by his tie back the hotel room, all hungry kisses and desperately seeking fingers and Yuuri hurriedly trying to find the keycard to the room while Victor ‘helps’ him, groping his ass thoroughly as he searches Yuuri’s back pocket.

“Vic- ah- Victor, I’ve – mmph- I’ve got it,” Yuuri gasps as he pulls away from the other man’s neck long enough to grapple the card out of the inside of his jacket and desperately jam it into the door.

“Really?” Victor almost purrs, hands still exploring, blue eyes deep and desperate like a midnight ocean. “I could have sworn it was still- ah!” He doesn’t have time to finish as the door swings open and they both collapse in a gasping mess on the plush carpet of their room.

Victor rolls off from where he’d landed directly on top of the other man, huffing out a laugh as he gently brushes a wayward hair out of Yuuri’s face. “And this is why I had most of the lifts earlier.” He stands wrapping his arms around Yuuri to help him to his feet.

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “We both know you didn’t have the stamina to do any past the one-minute mark,” he huffs.

Victor gently sets himself down on the edge of the bed, shedding his jacket as he goes, the smirk on his face dangerous. “Perhaps, though I think I’m up for another display of stamina right now.” Yuuri doesn’t need to wait for the invitation of Victor’s outstretched hand before he’s launching himself at his lover, drowning out his teases with a messy mouth and messier fingers wrestling with his shirt buttons.

Coherent words were definitely lost around the time Yuuri finally got a slicked hand between Victor’s legs.

 

 

‘ _Oh gods yes.. yes god, Yuuri you feel so good_ ,  _fuck,’_

Barely ten minutes later, Yuuri finds himself sitting on the bed, his back against a mess of hotel room pillows with his pants pushed down and his shirt still mostly buttoned while Victor firmly works himself down on his cock, one hand pressing in a death grip on Yuuri’s shoulder, the other grabbing the bed frame for better leverage. Yuuri has his head is buried in the warm crook of Victor’s neck and he’s running through every tedious skating drill in his head, desperately trying to stop himself finishing embarrassingly soon inside the beautiful man currently writhing in his lap clothed in nothing but his tie and a rosy blush.

“ _God I love you.”_

It’s mashed in with the rest of his incoherent gasps, but Yuuri still hears the words clear as day, burning like falling stars against his ear as Victor keeps up their erratic rhythm. 

His breath hitches for an entirely new reason as the words swirl in his mind. It’s the first time he’s said them since he returned from Russia those weeks ago, to the point where Yuuri had just assumed he didn’t really mean to say it. Just something drowsy and incoherent he’d barely caught in a whisper, that he might have even dreamed it. But here Victor was, saying it again. English this time.

Why now of all times would he…

“Yuuri?” A hand on his cheek gently pushes his face back so he can meet Victor’s gaze. “Everything alright _solnyshko_?”

His pupils are blown, the sweep of his fringe damp with his efforts and he just looks so beautifully wrecked, but the small pucker in his brow and the concern swimming in those eyes is unmissable.

Yuuri has only now just realised that in his shock he’d gone completely stock still in Victor’s arms, the gasped confession almost completely zoning him out of the moment. He blinks rapidly, desperately trying to pull himself back to reality.

“Hey,” Victor shifts slightly bringing his palms down to frame his face, stroking his cheeks in a soothing caress. “Do you need a minute?”

He feels the cool of Victor’s ring pressing a sweet contrast to the heat blooming in his cheeks, that one tiny anchor pulling him back into the moment. How he hadn’t even gotten used the feeling of it sitting on his own finger but knowing how naked his hand would feel without it makes him realise exactly why they were here, together, right now. 

“I’m fine,” he gasps out eventually, letting the sweetness of his gesture bring a smile to his lips, “really.” He lightly places one of his own hands over Victor’s so he can gently run his thumb over the smooth finish of that ring, grounding himself. “It’s just... a lot. Everything that’s happened”

Victor’s features relax as he leans forward to gently kiss his forehead. “I suppose it has been a fairly interesting few days,” he says moving down to lightly touch his lips to his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth, before pulling back, “for both of us.”

He isn’t wrong. The rush of the final, making plans to retire then unmaking said plans while Victor is already working for his comeback and then thinking about what they were both going to do moving forward. It’s a heady cocktail of emotions that Yuuri is surprised hasn’t spilt over into desperate hotel room fucking any sooner.

Yuuri wonders for a moment if that has anything to do with why he said he loved him right now. Or if, again, he even meant to. He knows what he said to himself the last time he heard the words but, could he really do it after a choked out gasp, uttered in a moment of passion?

He looks down and blushes harder. Maybe not while he’s still inside him anyway.

Victor moves to gently rest his hands back on Yuuri’s shoulders, “Well if you’re really okay to keep going,” he punctuates his words with a slow roll of his hips making Yuuri let out the moan that previously died in his throat, “it’ll probably be more fun if we both move.”

Yuuri returns the smirk before moving his hands so one grips more firmly above the blade of Victor’s hip and the other down to lightly trace his finger against his erection, watching his eyelids flutter in response.

“You know I think you’re right” he murmurs closing his fist around and stroking him more firmly, leaning in to mouth against his lips, “ _Vitya.”_

There isn’t a lot of time for talking after that. 

 

 

After, he swings off the bed to toss the condom in the bathroom trash, his legs slightly wobbly and numb from staying in one position for so long. 

“Don’t go,” Victor whines, grabbing his arm and wrapping himself like ivy around Yuuri’s torso. “Are you really the kind of man to just abandon their lover when they’re through?” He hears the tease under the melodramatic moan.

“I’ll just be a minute, keep warm for me,’’ he chuckles gently untangling himself from Victor’s embrace and lowering him back on the mattress, fighting the urge to kiss the adorable pout off his lips, “or we’re both going to feel gross in the morning.”

As he makes his way back to bed after cleaning himself off and grabbing a flannel for Victor, he sees Victor’s already turned the bedside lamp off and buried himself in the plush mattress, the corner of the sheets pulled down in open invitation.

_I love you._

The words are still fresh in his mind. They were choked out in a rush of ecstasy after a few too many glasses but it’s the first time he’s heard the words since his sleepy confession those weeks ago. 

“Victor?”

“Mmmm?” He’s curled on his side the duvet up to his chin, breaths deep, eyes closed and most of his face mashed into the pillow.

God he loves this man.

Maybe right now he doesn’t need to say it back, just show it. Love him with his actions until he knew the perfect way to tell him.

Shedding the rest of his clothes, he crawls under the covers next to his drowsy lover, wrapping an arm around his back to pull him closer until he’s curled properly against Yuuri’s chest.

“Mmmm?” He murmurs again as Yuuri lightly traces his finger down the curve of the other man’s spine.

“Nothing.” He whispers pressing his lips to Victor’s hairline. “It can wait until tomorrow”

 

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

After that is when he stops counting.

He keeps hearing it, peppered throughout the next few weeks before they’re forced apart for their respective nationals: mumbled in his neck in the early morning, whispered over the steam of fresh tea, cried out again and again in hot gasps during desperate midnight love-making sessions as they took advantage of every inch of skin they could still touch before Victor’s return to Russia.

Yuuri wants to say it back, he really _really_ wants to, but every time he hears the words, they’re always so fleeting. It’s like there was no weight to the phrase, they always seemed to flow so naturally from him, whether in Russian or English.

When they were apart, he couldn’t stop his mind racing about it. Rubbing his thumb over his ring in his bed, running through drills at the rink, all he could think about was how he could say it so… easily.

Deep down Yuuri knew he was overthinking it, that Victor saying “ _I love you,_ ” was really the opposite of a problem, but the fact he never really aimed it at Yuuri directly coupled with how he never actually took the time to tell him properly, he couldn’t stop the worries seeping like poison into his mind.

_What if he doesn’t really mean it?_

He was already jumpy enough about his upcoming move to St Petersburg and the constant muddle of uneasy thoughts wasn’t helping him come to terms with the facts that, yes, he was actually _moving in_ with Victor, actually making Russia his home for however long they could make this last together.

Sitting on his bulging suitcase and staring at himself in the gold of the medal from the Japanese nationals he sighs and mentally makes another resolve. One he’s actually going to keep this time.

Later, as he stares out at the soft purples of dusk from the window of the plane, he rehearses it in his head, ready for when he lands.

_When I see him. I’ll say it._

 

 ----------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

He’s been in St Petersburg for maybe 12 hours but Yuuri still can barely comprehend that he’s actually _here._

Here, in his pyjamas, enjoying the warmth of the early in morning in Victor Nikiforov’s kitchen.

When he’d woken to the sight of Victor curled next to him in his bed, it still took him a good few seconds to realise where he actually was.

When he’d arrived at Pulkovo airport, the combination of the exhaustion from jet lag and his mind buzzing about his resolve keeping him awake the whole flight had him dead on his feet when he finally felt the ground. He barely remembers stumbling in Victor’s waiting arms, just a vague memory of some soft words and having his heavy feet guided out of the harsh lights of arrivals before he found himself succumbing to the tiredness trying to drag him under.

Watching the coffee brew, he did wonder how exactly Victor had gotten him into bed in the first place. They were at least a few stories up and Yuuri had no memory of how he somehow managed to wrangle both Yuuri and his luggage into the apartment without waking him.

But having his first real memory of St Petersburg be waking up to the sight of a sleeping Victor sprawled out next to him, gently illuminated by the filtered light of a sunrise was something that had filled him with such joy he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He’d decided not to disturb such a pretty picture, and appreciated the alone time to actually have a look around the place he’d apparently sleepwalked through last night.

Unsurprisingly, it was as stunning as the man who owned it. Every detail as bright and polished as when he’d managed to sneak a glimpse of it from a photoshoot Victor had done for some lifestyle magazine years ago. It wasn’t huge, but it was still a nice open airy complex, something that Yuuri assumed probably cost more money then he was ever likely to see in his lifetime.

And yet, it didn’t have the lived in warmth of his parents’ inn, or even any apartment he’d ever been in really.  Victor had lived with him for almost a year, but he’d been back in this apartment for weeks already and it still had too much of a cool plastic air to it. It felt almost like a show home, too perfect for a real life to have been lived in here. If it wasn’t for the dog hairs on the rug and the frankly alarming number of hair products in the shower, he would never have guessed this was somewhere a real person lived, let alone Victor’s home.

His home now too. The thought makes another wave of giddiness sweep through him.

Pouring two mugs and sitting down on the sofa, he feels the soft nudge of Makkachin’s nose against his thigh, her eyes bright and expectant.

“Hey girl,” he whispers, gently scratching behind her ears, “I’m going to be sticking around here for a while, you don’t mind do you?” The loud thump of her tail on the hardwood and answering nuzzle against his palm was all he needed.

“Well If Makka’s okay with it, then I certainly am.”

Yuuri’s head shoots up at the sound of Victor’s low, sleepy voice from the doorway. He’s already dressed in track pants and a hoody and sporting such a fond expression while leaning on the frame, Yuuri can’t stop himself smiling back.

“Hey,” he murmurs happily as he watches the other man sit down next to him and gently run a hand through Makkachin’s fur.

He always loved Victor in the mornings, all sleep warmed and messy. Yuuri can’t stop himself reaching over to gently smooth the dishevel strands of hair out of his eyes, his heart melting as Victor gently leans into his touch, before shifting forward to hug him properly.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” comes the soft exhale against his head and Yuuri feels his world go pink.

_Say it now._

Inhaling the smell from the warmth of Victor’s shirt, he pulls back to look him properly in the eyes.

“Victor, I…”

“Oh there’s coffee,” Victor interrupts, grabbing the cup closest to him, sleepy appreciation blooming on his face as his fingers curl around the warmth of the mug.

“Uh, yeah.” Yuuri continues, his bravery faltering slightly. “Anyway, I need to...”

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” Victor murmurs sipping gently.

That was it.

“Really?” The question is out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Hmmm?” Victor regards Yuuri over the rim of the mug, his expression still drowsy.

Yuuri sighs. He can’t stop himself now, they need to do this. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” Victor arches an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused as if Yuuri is questioning something completely normal.

Yuuri takes a breath. “You...saying that you love me.” God he hates how this is coming out. “You just keep, well, saying it.”

Victor puts his mug next to Yuuri’s on the coffee table, the confusion still etched on his features at the statement. “Yes?” It’s a slow questioning tone. “Is it… bothering you?”

Oh crap.

“No! I mean- of course it isn’t, I’ve always wanted to hear that- wait,” he tries to catch the rapidly deteriorating train of thought as his words continue to spill out as if his mouth is a broken faucet. “You just- always say it so...” he waves his hand as if physically trying to catch the words he needs, “nonchalantly?”

When he sees the word hit Victor’s face he instantly regrets his choice.

“No wait, that’s not the right word.” He tries to save himself, but can already feel his grasp of English failing him. “I mean, you just say it so easily, the first time I heard it, it was just so casual I didn’t even know if you’d actually said it and then afterwards I just never feel like you’re actually saying it to me.” He looks down at his lap. “Not really anyway.”

When he looks back up and sees the hurt slowly starting to seep around Victor’s eyes he wants to slam his head against a wall repeatedly for ever bringing it up.

“Do you not want me to say it?”

“I do!” He leans in, desperately trying to find a way to say what he really means. God, he thought this conversation just might be easy. “I just need to know- I just…” He sighs and looks him properly in the face “that you mean it, that you aren’t just saying it just- just because.”

Victor takes a second to process the words, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Do you really think I don’t mean it?”

“I... I guess I…” He turns around slamming his palms over his eyes. He’s ruined it. He’s been here for less than a day and already completely and utterly ruined everything. Not only has he hurt Victor yet again, but made a huge fool of himself by not even thinking. Maybe if he’s quick out the door he can catch the first plane back to Japan and drown his sorrows while Victor is still reeling from how much of a thoughtless idiot he is.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually lets out to the wall in front of him. “Please just forget I said anything.” He can feel his voice catching in the burn at the back of his throat. The last thing he wanted to do right now was cry, but the thought that he’s already thrown everything away after being here for such a short amount of time was making it hard not to.

“Yuuri.” He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, slowly guiding him to turn back around. “Yuuri please look at me.” Victor’s face looks a little more relaxed than previously, but the worry in his features still there.

“Victor. I didn’t want to say that…”

“No.” He stops him. “No, I think I know what you mean.” He keeps his fingers light on Yuuri’s shoulders, as if trying to touch him without caging him there. “You’re right. I know I say it a lot. To be honest the first time I recall telling you might not have even been the first time I said it.”

“What?” It’s Yuuri’s turn to be confused now.

“I just noticed that saying it did come easily. Like it was something I’d always said. The first time I think I was halfway through typing it in a text when I realised that the words were there, that I might have said it to you at other times as well.” He lets out a sigh. “Half the time I don’t even realise I’m doing it, but I think that’s because it just feels right. And I assure you,” He shifts forward a little, “It doesn’t mean that I don’t mean it,” he moves a hand to grasp one of Yuuri’s that are rigid in his lap, “because I do. I really do.”

Yuuri slowly takes in the words before more properly lacing their fingers together and answering. “It just freaked me out a little I guess.” He rubs his thumb over the back of Victor’s hand. “I spent so long thinking about the right way and the perfect time to say it and then you could just do it so easily.” He pulls back. “I always thought saying ‘I love you’ was something you had to build up to, that it had to be some big statement.”

It was Victor who looks down this time. “I guess I never did say it so directly because I didn’t want to say it and then you not say it back.”

Yuuri almost chokes out a laugh. “How could you think I wouldn’t say it back?”

Victor cracks a small smile. “Well you might have, but I also didn’t want to pressure you. To feel like you had to say it. I guess I thought if it was just said here and there you’d become comfortable with what I felt. Though I see now it might have had the opposite effect.”

This time Yuuri does laugh. “Yeah. But it’s also that… I guess I never even really believed that someone like you could ever say that to me, even after the past year.”

Victor’s response was instant. Using their joint hands he pulls him closer, the other takes Yuuri’s chin in a gentle grip until he can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks. “Now you listen to me Katsuki Yuuri. Loving you came so naturally to me I barely realised I was saying it myself the first few times, but right now I am going to make this as clear as I can so I never make you worry about what I feel for even a second after today.”

Victor’s eyes are as intense as his words as he continues, enunciating clearly.

“I am completely in love with you. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who makes me as happy as you do. It’s not just that you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve met, but you’re kind, you’re determined, and you’re the most talented person I know. I never want you to think for even one minute that you aren’t deserving because I could give you everything I have, everything I am and it wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

“Victor.” Every fantasy he’d ever had about Victor telling him he loved him paled in comparison to this. How raw and honest and _open_ the words were. How he could feel his own feelings spilling over like a bursting dam in his chest.

“I love you.” He says again, softer this time. “And you don’t have to worry about finding the right way to say it back, whatever you…”

“I love you too.” The words were again out of Yuuri’s mouth before he’s had time to think of an answer.

“Yuuri. Are you sure you...”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” The words are the firmest he’s spoken all morning. “I love you and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long and you don’t have to give me everything. It’s like I said, I just want you to be who you are. That’s always been more than enough.” His words now are falling so easily from his lips he isn’t sure how he wasn’t able to say them before. “I love you and being here right now with you, I know that this is right, this is where I want to be.”

The burst of happiness that blooms on Victor’s face is something he’s never going to forget. He gasps out in surprise at the force of Victor’s mouth as he quickly closes the distance between them, kissing him with a desperate fervour before gently mumbling a response against Yuuri’s lips.

“This is where I want to be too.”

As their mouths meet again, Yuuri feels every doubt sitting in his mind get whisked away on the cold of the St Petersburg breeze, replaced with one warm thought taking root.

 

_Yes. This is where we’re meant to be. Together._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Depeche Mode, 'Here is the House.'
> 
> I finally had the courage to actually post this so I hope you enjoyed it. (Seriously it's been sitting as a draft for MONTHS)
> 
> BIG THANK YOU to my motivation and my beta @Pheebshb, I couldn't have done it without you.
> 
> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](https://ravensmores.tumblr.com/) \- @ravensmores


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